Sarah York McCullum
On Instinct, Interruption, and the Work That Was Always Hers
"Whatever comes naturally to you is what makes you unique. Dig deep into whatever that may be. Do not try and do what anybody else is doing to find success."
Introduction
There are artists who set out to become artists, and then there are those who arrive at it by a longer and less predictable road. Sarah York McCullum belongs to the second kind. She did not begin with a gallery in mind or a portfolio under her arm. She began as a creative, someone drawn to form, structure, and beauty, which is perhaps why architecture seemed, for a time, like the natural path for her, yet later her creativity diverted, ultimately leading her to painting.
Since Childhood
Long before art was her job, it was simply what Sarah did. As a child, she spread crayons, acrylics, and collages across the kitchen floor daily, work in progress, waiting to show her parents when they came home. By twelve, she was submitting pieces to local fairs and school exhibitions. The impulse to make things, and to share them, was never something she had to cultivate. It was already there.
When we asked which artists shaped her, she looked inward rather than outward, to someone whose work she grew up watching firsthand.
"Prior to her MS diagnosis, my grandmother was an artist. She hand-drew ads for several notable newspapers, department stores, white pages, and eventually her own local magazine. She painted as well. I have always admired her."
The most formative influences are not always the most obvious ones. Sometimes they are simply the person whom you grew up watching.
Education and the Interior Life
Sarah studied Interior Architecture at Samford University, with a minor in fine art on the side. Her personal artwork during those years remained largely her own, a private practice she did not feel compelled to broadcast. This is an underrated quality in an artist: the willingness to let the work develop before the audience arrives, rather than the other way around.
When we asked her if she believed a formal art education was necessary, she stated without conviction,
"I do not think it's for everyone. However, I do believe in the importance of education and learning."
Her own experience suggests that creative training need not be narrow to be useful. Her architectural studies gave her an eye for form, proportion, and restraint, qualities that would eventually surface in her paintings in ways she may not have anticipated at the time.
Career, and the Interruption
After university, Sarah joined McAlpine, a well-regarded Nashville architectural firm, and continued building her art practice quietly alongside her professional life. By most reasonable measures, she was progressing exactly as one is supposed to. In 2022, she made a move to a smaller firm. Ten days in, she received a call informing her she had been let go, on the basis of, as she recounts it, "a gut feeling."
"I was crushed, confused, and angry. However, it was the moment that led me to pursue art full-time. I do not know when or if I would have made the leap to do that without being fired."
There is something clarifying about this kind of interruption, however unwelcome it is at the time. Ten days into her new job, she thought she was ascending in the architecture world, but then it was gone, and it became the genesis of her art career.
"Even though the first couple years of pursuing art full-time were full of challenges, it's given me immense gratitude for where I am today. I never take it for granted."
That gratitude did not come from ease. It came from having been displaced from comfort and choosing, nonetheless, to keep going.
Her Art
Sarah released her first collection in July 2020, the same month she created her Instagram account. It sold out within days. She describes that moment less as a triumph than as a confirmation, something closer to a calling than a milestone.
Then, in the summer of 2024, she painted the horse that would come to define her public work and how most people now recognize her.
"Since the origin of the horse was personal and at the time not even meant to be sold, I never felt more certain that was the direction my art was meant to go."
That certainty comes through in the painting itself. There's no performance in it, no sense that anyone was watching when she made it. The horse found its audience precisely because she wasn’t looking for one.
Her style is now best described as a minimalist take on Western folk surrealism. Her subjects, rider and horse alike, function as archetypes rather than portraits. Through elongated limbs, flattened perspectives, and restrained palettes, she strips away anything peripheral. What remains is essence rather than likeness, presence rather than detail. A verse she returns to again and again anchors her work: "The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but victory rests with the Lord." Proverbs 21:31. It is not decorative. It is, by her account, foundational.
On Difficult Days
Every working artist encounters periods where nothing comes easily. What tends to separate those who persist from those who do not is less about raw talent than it is about the habits built around those harder stretches. Sarah's approach is straightforward.
"Day to day, I love to go for walks, journal, and read. However, if I feel like I am in a deeper rut, I find taking a complete step back normally helps. Sometimes I will close the door to my studio for a day (or a few days). When I come back with fresh eyes, it's easier to move forward. I tend to think about my work more when it's not in front of me, for better or worse."
That last observation is one many creatives will recognize immediately. Stepping away from the work is not abandonment. It is simply a way to reset.
On Growth and Attribution
When we asked how she built her following, her answer was immediate and unambiguous.
"I give God 100% credit for my success. I think most people discover me through social media, but I never had a specific strategy that led to that growth."
She was not optimizing for reach. She was sharing work that was genuinely hers, and it connected. That is not a formula that can be repeated, but the result of having something real to say.
Some Advice
When we asked for her single piece of advice to someone starting out, she kept it simple.
"Whatever comes naturally to you is what makes you unique. Dig deep into whatever that may be. Do not try and do what anybody else is doing to find success."
In any creative field, the pull toward imitation is strong. What is working for someone else feels safer to follow. But what worked for them worked because it was genuinely theirs. The horse was personal. That is exactly why it became her signature.
Nashville Recommendations
Sarah is rooted in the city, and when we asked for her recommendations for anyone visiting, she suggested staying at the Hermitage Hotel, having dinner at Noko, and making the drive out to Fox and Locke in Leiper's Fork for live music.
In Closing
Sarah York McCullum did not arrive where she is by executing a plan. She arrived by showing up consistently, protecting what was authentically hers, and trusting, even through the difficult years, that honest work would eventually find its people. She was let go from a job she had wanted and turned the disruption into a life she was meant to have. She painted a horse for no one in particular, and it became the thing most associated with her name. The throughline, across everything she shared with us, is this: do not manufacture your path. Dig into what is already there.
Instagram: by_sarahyork